


Devious Stares

by KiaraMGrey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Crowley Is Into It, Crowley has a strength kink, Dark Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not to Crowley, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), aziraphale is a vampire, but not TOO dark, it's about the yearning, lonely Aziraphale, lonely crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey
Summary: When Crowley had decided to go to the pub in an attempt to meet someone, he hadn't really thought much would come of it. That is, until the stunning blonde with the striking blue eyes walked in. Crowley can hardly look away from him. And luckily for him, or perhaps unluckily depending on who you ask, the other man doesn't seem to have eyes for anyone else in the pub either.But Aziraphale isn't there for alcohol.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 204
Kudos: 533
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is fully inspired by Jessica and Hoyt's first meeting on True Blood. I watched the scene again and couldn't help but think how cute it was, and then of course I pictured these two in that scenario. And yes, I did picture Aziraphale walking into the pub to the song [Sex and Candy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNRBqNvcLt4), just like in the show.

This had been a stupid idea. Crowley wasn’t sure why he thought it would make him feel better to come to a dingy pub at nine o’clock on a Tuesday, but he hadn’t had any other ideas. Being lonely was a miserable affair, and Crowley was very, very alone. Nearly thirty-five years of age, with only a couple friends and zero romantic prospects, he had been driven to desperate measures. In his twenties he had made picking up strangers from bars a regular affair. But that wasn’t what he wanted anymore. He wanted consistency and long term. He wanted to wake up with someone who wasn’t going to make an excuse and run out the door the minute the sun peaked over the horizon.

Admittedly, his chances of finding that in this pub were slim to none. There were a group of what looked like university students playing pool at the other end of the establishment, but given the girls hanging off them they were sending out very Straight vibes. Not that he wanted to date a university student anyways. A few nice-looking bearded gentlemen were sat together at the bar, and a few other rough sorts were seated in tables around the pub. But nobody even gave Crowley a second glance where he was slouched down in his booth, sipping a beer.

This was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did this to himself. The sorts of men he could meet at a place like this weren’t going to be what he wanted, and yet he still came here and tried. Because where else could he meet someone? Grindr? Yeah, right. He tried that and it had been disastrous. He tipped his beer back and took a gulp.

Anathema had been trying to set him up with some friends of hers, but none of them were his type. And every time she would ask what his type was, he couldn’t tell her. Because really, he didn’t know. He just knew that when he saw it, he would know it. He had dated all different types throughout his life, but none of them had ever been willing to stick around long term. Not that he blamed them. He was clingy and grew attached far too easily. All he had ever wanted was to love and be loved in return, but it had just never happened for him.

And so now, here he was, being pathetic. It wasn’t that he was ugly. No, he knew the figure he cut, and he knew he turned heads. Dark red hair artfully styled just right, tight black clothes, a snake tattoo on his face. He looked like he should be the epitome of cool, and yet he never failed to make an utter fool of himself. He was just about to call it an early night and head home when the door to the pub opened. His eyes flicked over on instinct, and he froze.

The man that walked in didn’t look like anyone he had ever met before. He looked as though he had just walked straight out of a period piece, with what appeared to be an authentic classic waistcoat and bowtie. But his clothes weren’t what stopped Crowley dead in his tracks. The man was _beautiful._ White blonde curls stuck up like a cloud over his head as sharp blue eyes swept the room. His nose was adorably upturned at the tip, giving him an air of aristocracy, and his body looked positively delectable. Thick thighs encased in tan trousers, a soft middle he could just fall into, and sturdy looking shoulders attached to arms that could probably hold him down no matter how much he squirmed. He looked like a damn angel. Crowley swallowed and sat up a bit straighter.

The mans eyes continued around the room, as though searching for something. He was probably here to meet someone, Crowley chastised himself. He wasn’t here to be picked up by some desperate bloke with a face tattoo. But then those sharp eyes found his, and it was like a spark had been lit in his gut. Those intense eyes held his for a long moment, and Crowley found that he couldn’t move, even as his face heated up at being caught staring. The corner of the angel’s mouth quirked up into a smirk, and then he was walking towards him. Or perhaps walking wasn’t the right word. Crowley felt like he was being stalked. Even though the man’s eyes had moved away from him, he was still steadily making his way closer. Well-manicured hands brushed over the tops of the booths, almost sensually, and Crowley shifted in his seat. Maybe it was his lucky night, and this beautiful angel _had_ come here to meet someone new.

But then he stopped and slid into the booth across from him. Crowley blinked at the sudden change in where he had thought this was going. He slouched back down a bit, disappointment clawing at him stomach. Of course the man didn’t want to come sit with him. He tried to keep his eyes on his own table, but like a magnet, his gaze was drawn upward. The man was sat facing him, but he had lifted the menu, obstructing his view of him. Crowley bit his lip and stared at the menu, at the way those delicate looking hands held it just so. He was so caught up in looking at his hands that he failed to notice the slight lowering of it, so he was completely caught off guard when he looked up and once again met a steel blue gaze. His heart lurched in his chest and he quickly looked away. He was sure his face was nearly as red as his hair by now.

He sipped his beer so that he had something to do with his hands, but before long his eyes were drawn back, and he nearly fell over when he saw that he was still being watched. Miraculously, the man didn’t seem to be upset at being stared at. If Crowley didn’t know better, he would say that the eyes were _smiling_ at him. As though he wanted him to come over and talk to him. He took a deep breath, then downed the rest of his beer before standing. He took the few steps to the other table and stopped beside it.

“Hi.” He wanted to smack himself. Hi? That was the best line he could come up with?

The menu was lowered fully, and the angelic man smiled up at him. “Hello.” His voice was wonderfully posh.

“Is this seat taken?”

The man glanced down at the booth. “It doesn’t appear to be, no.”

Crowley grinned and slid in across from him, his stomach doing the tango, and did his best to appear cool and casual.

“I’ve never seen you in here before.”

The blond looked around, his eyes dancing off the cluttered tables and grimy looking bar. “No, this is my first time in this establishment. I don’t usually frequent such… modern places.”

Crowley chuckled. “You can call it what it is. It’s a bit of a dump, and the people here are mostly trash.”

A blond eyebrow quirked up. “You don’t look like trash. You look lovely.”

Crowley flushed, and he saw the mans eye track the color as the blood rushed through him. “Well then, I’ve tricked you well enough it seems. My names Crowley.”

They shook hands.

“Aziraphale.”

Crowley’s eyebrows jumped up. “Wow, that’s quite the name.”

Aziraphale shrugged, and Crowley saw an expression that said he probably got that a lot, and he was quite tired of it. “Yes, well, it’s an old family name.”

Crowley hummed and leaned back in his chair, trying to put him at ease. “Well, it suits you.”

“Why, because it’s old and stuffy?”

“No, because you’re an angel.”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped back up to his, wide with surprise, and then an uncertain smile pulled at his lips. Crowley, meanwhile, had to swallow down the rush of embarrassment he felt at just saying that out loud to a man he only met a few minutes ago.

The blond shook his head slowly, that same smile still on his face. “I’m really not.”

Crowley leaned forward on his elbows, feeling his confidence return and amp up at the coy glance he was now receiving. If this was the sort of thing the angel liked, then he could do it.

“Oh yes you are. Knew it the moment you walked through that door. I was just thinking to myself, Crowley, you never meet anyone kind or interesting. And then bam, in you walk. Almost like destiny.”

His smile had widened into the full thing now, showing off slight dimples in his soft cheeks and a perfect set of white teeth.

“I don’t think I believe in destiny.”

Crowley nodded. “Neither did I until a few minutes ago.”

Aziraphale looked as though he should be blushing, but his cheeks remained their same pale hue.

“Well,” he breathed, “You clearly don’t know much about me. I’m no angel.”

“Maybe not, but that’s ok. Life is always more interesting if you have bit of demon in you as well.”

Aziraphale tilted his head, allowing his eyes to roam over Crowley’s body. Somehow, he felt more naked than if he hadn’t been wearing any clothes at all.

“And is that what you are? A demon?”

The words settled into Crowley’s brain slowly, and then he blushed furiously as he grasped the double entendre. He wanted to be incredibly cool, to lean forward and wink and ask if he wanted him to be. Instead, his own bumbling shyness got in the way.

He chuckled. “Eh, not really. I’d like to think so, but I’m not quite cool enough for that. But the tattoo does a good job of fooling people, huh?”

Aziraphale glanced at the tattoo. “I admit, you’re not quite what I thought you would be when I first saw you.”

Crowley deflated slightly. Ah, of course. Aziraphale had come in looking for a certain type, and he wasn’t meeting those expectations. He cleared his throat.

“I can, um, leave you alone if you like.”

“No, no!” he said quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s a good thing. I like this much better.”

Crowley straightened up, hope flickering alive in his chest. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Aziraphale nodded, his smile softening. “You seem… nice.”

“Oh, wow, what glowing praise,” Crowley said with a laugh.

“It is!” Aziraphale insisted. He looked back down at the table. “Not many people are nice.”

Crowley chewed his lip as he eyed the softness of Aziraphale’s under chin when he looked down. There was a slight roll, but the skin looked so soft it might at well be porcelain. He must have a great skincare routine.

“Can I, um, can I buy you a drink? Or are you hungry? We can get a bite to eat if you want.”

All of a sudden, Aziraphale looked incredibly uncomfortable. Oh, crap, had he gone too fast for him already? He had assumed that this was where the conversation was heading, but perhaps he had been wrong.

“Or, or not! If that’s not what you want! I… I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to do this and now I realize that I’m messing it up big time and you probably think I’m a weirdo—”

“No, Crowley, that’s not it at all!” Aziraphale said quickly. “It’s just, um… Well, I don’t think they have anything I can drink in stock here.”

Crowley frowned. Was he sober? Why had he come to a pub then? “Oh, uh, well they have water and soft drinks. And believe it or not they make a pretty good burger.”

Aziraphale swallowed and stared down at his hands. “I’m afraid that if I want to eat, I would have to go to a Blood Bar.”

Crowley stared at him for a long moment, trying to work out what he was talking about. A Blood Bar? Why would he have to go there? The only one’s who could drink there were… Crowley’s eye went wide, and he sucked in a breath.

“You’re a vampire?”

Aziraphale lifted his chin, almost daring him to make a scene or say something foolish. When vampires had first come out of the shadows ten years ago, the world had initially panicked. Crowley remembered watching the tv programs about how they were going to destroy the world, make off with everyone’s children. But over time things had settled down, and it had become clear that they just wanted to go on living as they were. Crowley had seen a few in passing, had always been interested in them. But he had never actually met one before.

But now, here was a genuine vampire sitting in front of him, and he was the most gorgeous thing had ever seen. He licked his lips and smiled.

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. “You aren’t afraid of me?”

Crowley quickly shook his head. “No.”

Aziraphale’s face shifted, something hungry yet interested playing over the surface of it. “Liar. I can hear your heartbeat. It’s pounding away in your chest.”

Crowley swallowed hard. Shit. He had forgotten they could do that. “I’m _not_ afraid. I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never met someone like you before.”

Aziraphale ran his teeth over his bottom lip, and Crowley couldn’t help the shiver that shook his body at the sight.

“Would you like to know someone like me?”

Perhaps Crowley should say no. Perhaps he should recognize the very real danger here and walk away before it was too late. If he left now, maybe Aziraphale wouldn’t follow him out of here.

Instead, he nodded. Aziraphale let his eyes wander down Crowley’s body. He looked like he was weighing options.

“Would you like to come back to my place?”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat and he choked a bit on his own saliva. “To- to do what?”

Aziraphale leaned back, one finger tapping on the table. “What would you like to do?”

Crowley had heard about people who enjoyed allowing vampires to use them. They said that the high you got from being fed off was better than any drug known to man. But it was dangerous. There had been several cases of murder, with vampires refusing to stop and drinking a human dry. It was nearly impossible to track those vampires down, given that they didn’t leave behind any DNA and they were heavily protected by the Vampire Union. Aziraphale could kill him easily if he went back to his place. He could drain him dry and dump his body, and nobody would even know it. And yet…

“Perhaps we can just get to know one another?”

The predatory look softened, and he almost looked confused. “You… want to get to know me?”

Crowley nodded. He probably sounded like a naïve idiot to him. Vampires who had been alive for hundreds of years probably didn’t want to bother building a relationship with a human. _Was_ he hundreds of years old? He supposed he could ask him.

“Well… alright.”

Crowley grinned. “Why do you seem so shocked?”

“To be honest, the only reaction I’ve ever received upon someone finding out my true nature is either fear or desire. Though desire is new. Ever since humans found out our bite secretes a chemical with euphoric effects, I’ve been sought out more than once. It makes hunting much easier.”

Crowley’s stomach clenched at the casual way he said that, as though hunting humans was a normal occurrence for him.

“Is that what you’re doing here tonight?”

Aziraphale shifted slightly in his seat, looking a bit ashamed. “Well, yes. Most of the time I drink the synthetic blood now-a-days, but I need to feed on the real thing at least once a month to hold me over.”

Crowley chewed his lip. “Does that mean I’m the prey?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He looked as though he were having an internal argument with himself, before coming to some sort of decision.

“That was the plan, yes. I usually come to a shady establishment such as this and pick up someone who wants to experience being with a vampire for the first time. We usually go back to my place. The always expect sex, but I don’t typically have any interest in that with them. Their blood is the only thing I’m after. And once I bite them, they forget all about it. I take only enough to hold me over, and then I erase their memories and send them on their way.”

Crowley stared with wide eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure why Aziraphale was telling him all this.

“Are you always this upfront with your victims?”

Aziraphale flinched. “I wish you wouldn’t call them that. They are perfectly consenting to the bite and the high they’re chasing.”

“And what about the erased memories?”

“That’s better for everyone involved. It’s not good to bring unwanted attention to oneself as a vampire. I would rather not have a whole number of people going around and outing me for what I am.”

Crowley hummed. “I suppose that’s true. Is that what you want to do to me?”

Once again, conflict crossed Aziraphale’s face. “No, not really. You seem… different.”

Crowley tried to be humble, he really did, but he couldn’t help the swelling of pride and the grin that spread across his face at those words. “Different how?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “For one thing, you aren’t fetishizing me. And also, well, you seem nice.”

“I’m not nice,” he said automatically.

Aziraphale raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Well, you seem nice. And if you really would like to get to know me, I think I would like that as well.”

Excitement lit up Crowley’s body. Yes, he wanted that. He had wanted it the moment he had laid eyes on Aziraphale. Him being a vampire didn’t change anything. So what if he was immortal and occasionally drank human blood for his survival? He had dated men with much worse flaws.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Do you, um, do you want to go back to your place then?”

“We can,” he said reluctantly, “But if you really do wish to get to know me, perhaps it would be better to continue to meet outside of my residence. At least for a while.”

Crowley nodded. “I mean, sure, that’s fine. But why?”

It was then that Aziraphale’s piercing gaze moved down to his throat, and an undeniable hunger bled through his calm demeanor. “Because I don’t know that I would be able to resist you otherwise.”

Those words shouldn’t shoot down his spine and harden his cock the way they did, and yet Crowley found himself suddenly straining in his jeans. He had never been irresistible to someone else, in any way whatsoever. Just the idea of Aziraphale wanting any part of him enough to have to fight against his baser urges made Crowley want to crawl across the table and give him anything he wanted. But no, he needed to maintain some sort of dignity if he wanted Aziraphale’s interest in him to extend past a single use. He must have been quiet for too long, because Aziraphale continued speaking.

“If this is to be more than a one-time trade, I would like to spend time with you. I fear that if I were to give in to temptation, that would be the end of whatever this may be.”

Crowley swallowed thickly. “Ok. Yeah, we can spend time out together. Can I see you again another night?”

Aziraphale’s smile lit up his whole face. He gently reached forward and placed his hand over Crowley’s. It was ice cold, but incredibly soft, and Crowley wanted to turn his hand over and lace their fingers together. He didn’t though.

“I would like that. Are you free another night this week?”

“I’m free tomorrow night.”

Aziraphale seemed surprised but pleased. “Oh, alright. That works for me as well. I’m free most nights, in fact.”

“Same. I work from eleven am until about seven, five nights per week, so evenings are pretty free for me.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “Oh, good.”

“Can I, I mean, do you have a phone? So I can text you and we can make a plan.”

“Luckily for you, I finally gave in and purchased a cellular device last year,” he said with a chuckle as he pulled a flip phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

Crowley bit down on a laugh that bubbled up. He should have known a vampire would have trouble staying up with the times. He took the phone and sent himself a quick message.

“There, now we have each other’s numbers.”

“Very good. Well, I should be going. But I’ll see you tomorrow night, my dear.”

 _My dear._ Crowley’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he was fairly sure Aziraphale had heard it, based on his amused smile he was wearing.

“Um, yeah, see you then.” He watched as Aziraphale stood from the booth, and suddenly found he didn’t want him to leave yet. “But uh, you don’t have to go so soon. The night is still young.”

Aziraphale hesitated, glancing down at him. “Apologies, but if I intend on spending any extended amount of time with you tomorrow, then feeding tonight is a must.”

Crowley felt his stomach sink at those words. Aziraphale was still going to go out and find someone else to take home. Someone else to touch and bite and suck. He had no right to feel jealously burning through his veins, and yet was powerless to stop it. He was a second away from telling him to take him, to forget about going slow, when Aziraphale placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t be taking them back to my place tonight.”

Some of the tension eased from Crowley’s body and he smiled. “Good. I want to be the next person you let in.”

Humor danced in those blue eyes, and then he was turning and walking away. Crowley watched him until the door shut behind him before collapsing back in his seat. He sat there for a long while, just staring into the space in front of him before a grin lit up his whole face. Anathema was _never_ going to believe this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you guys said you wanted more, so here it is! I figured since it's almost spooky month, this would be a good fic to continue writing. Enjoy!

Aziraphale had a system. A careful, well thought out and executed system that did not steer him wrong. Granted, it had changed somewhat over the years. For a very long time it had included secrecy and deception, and a bit of force. He had become very good at luring unsuspecting humans into dark alleys, or when he was in the mood, into his shop. It wasn’t like he killed them. Well… not usually. He only killed the ones who deserved it. Those whose souls were even darker and more twisted than his. But that didn’t count. Over the centuries he had begun to affectionately call it ‘pest control’. The world would not miss rapists and abusers and murderers. Besides, letting people like that continue on as they were was bad for vampires. If there were too many predators on the streets, it started to draw in unwanted attention from wary city dwellers and local law enforcement. So, when he dragged them away from whichever terrified victim they had chosen that night and drained every drop of blood from their body, he was actually doing the public a service.

He had tried to explain this to the Grand Coven several times when he was called to answer why he didn’t just stay with them and drink the blood that was offered. He would explain that he found their methods… distasteful, and they would roll their eyes and shake their heads. But he never drew unwanted attention or took more than he needed, so luckily, they left him as he was.

But then, ten years ago, based on a vote by all the Grand Covens around the world, they had stepped out of the shadows and come forth into the human world. Aziraphale had not received a vote on the matter. He had been sure that as soon as humans found out about them, they would join together as a species to wipe him and his kind out. It wouldn’t matter that he had once been a human. He had seen enough in his lifetime to know that humans hated and feared what they did not understand and what was different from them. He had braced for a lifetime of hiding. As it turned out, he had greatly underestimated the strength of wealth and influence. The leaders of his kind had spent centuries building power around the world, so when they finally revealed themselves, the humans could do little more than accept it.

The invention of synthetic blood had helped. They were able to drink it and survive without killing humans or even taking their blood. That didn’t stop them from doing it, of course. For everyday use, sure. It got them by. But it wasn’t enough, and it never would be. Aziraphale, and all those who were like him, craved and desired the real thing. It was lucky for them that there were a large number of humans who craved what they could give in return.

He had always known that his bite gave the humans a certain high, but he had never been able to see the full effects. Before, he had always erased their memories and sent them on their way. He didn’t realize that they would then walk around for the rest of their lives searching for something they could not name. But now, oh, it was all the rage. Humans came to _them_ to be bit. They became addicted and dependent, and it had been the end of many poor souls who couldn’t resist. It was why Aziraphale kept his hunts to only once per month. Well, the hunts that he did on purpose. He had still experienced a good number of degenerates and evil, and he handled them in the same way he always did. He wished he could say that he regretted it, that he didn’t find any joy in ripping into their throats while they squirmed, but that would be a lie.

Tonight was not supposed to be any different. As soon as sundown had come, he had adorned his best jacket and smoothed out his hair before going on the prowl. It was typically easy enough. Go to a rundown pub or some sexed up club, find someone who looked like they were desperate for a good time, and take them back to his. They were always so eager once they found out what he was and what he was offering. They wanted to be able to tell their friends they had fucked a vampire, or they wanted to try out the bite. They saw him as a commodity, no different from the drugs they bought, and no different from how he saw them. It was an exchange of services and nothing more.

He never could have predicted what he would find in that ramshackle pub on this random Tuesday night. He couldn’t predict flaming red hair and golden eyes and kind smiles. He didn’t expect to find someone who was interested in him beyond what he could do for them. Someone who wanted to _know_ him.

How long had it been since he had a genuine conversation with someone who wasn’t a vampire and who knew what he was? Had it been his father? No, it couldn’t have been that long, surely. But the more he thought about it, yes, that was the case. None of the gentlemen at his clubs had ever known what he was. He had pretended to be like them, knowing that if they knew the truth, they would fear and reject him.

But Crowley was not afraid. And he didn’t want him for his bite. He wasn’t a fetish or an experience for him. He had looked at him like he was just another person. A person who he was attracted to.

Now, as Aziraphale sat in his shop, he contemplated what that meant for him. What should he do about it? He could leave it be. He could ignore Crowley’s texts and calls and pretend like he had never met him. He chuckled to himself. He was obviously not going to do that. Denying himself what he wanted had never been a strength of his, and he wasn’t about to start up now. But what exactly _did_ he want from Crowley? His body? His blood? His mind? All of the above? Well, he supposed he had the chance to figure that out.

Yes. He would take his time and get to know the man before deciding what to do. Perhaps tonight had been a fluke, and once he saw him again, he would realize that he wasn’t all that special or interesting or handsome. Alright, that last part wasn’t going to happen. Despite his first need of blood, the moment he had laid eyes on him he had felt something stir inside of him that he hadn’t acknowledge in a long time. Sexual relationships were messy, and he had avoided them for a while now. But he _was_ attracted to Crowley.

If he had met him all that time ago, when he had been human, he could only imagine the way he would have made his heart pound. He missed that, having a heartbeat. He could imagine it, perhaps seeing him on the streets of London in the early nineteenth century or at the theater. He would have caught his breath and stared, unable to look away from such a face. But then he would have run. Because in his time, to look upon another man in that way would have meant prison or even death.

Aziraphale shook himself from those thoughts. Times were different now. Humans were more accepting of it, and he was fairly sure his proclivity towards men was the least offensive attribute of his person. If he wanted a male human, he could bloody well have him.

He took a sip of blood from his glass. He hated having to break open his reserves, but after meeting Crowley he hadn’t had the heart to go pick up some other random person. It wouldn’t be as fun. A glance at the clock told him it was nearly six in the morning, which meant the sun would be up very soon. He pulled out his phone and saw that there was a message from Crowley.

_Hey, I know you’re probably about to go to sleep, but I wanted to tell you I’m glad I met you tonight. I’m excited for our meetup tomorrow. How do you feel about music? There is a local music show going on tomorrow night near St. James park at nine, and I thought it might be fun. Or not. We can do whatever you like, just let me know._

Aziraphale smiled at the message, and then saw that he had sent another.

_This is Crowley by the way, from the pub._

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he typed out his own message.

**_Dear Crowley,_ **

**_Of course I know it’s you, who else would it be? A music show sounds positively delightful, and perhaps we could enjoy a stroll through St. James afterwards? I have always enjoyed that park. Of course, I hold you to no obligation if you wish to cut the night short._ **

**_Yours,_ **

**_Aziraphale_ **

He sat back in his chair and drained the remaining blood from his cup. He had had automatic blackout blinds installed on the shop in the early twenty first century, so technically he could remain down here if he wished. But he found that he always felt more refreshed if he got some rest during the day. So he went to the back sink and rinsed out his cup before going upstairs to his flat, where he changed into his best vintage sleeping gown and climbed into bed. Just as he was settling in, he received another message.

_Cool! Sounds great! I’ll see you then :)_

Aziraphale chuckled. What an interesting human Crowley was turning out to be. He did hope he wouldn’t disappoint him.

* * *

The next night Crowley found himself running up to the music hall at a quarter before nine. Aziraphale had said he would wait for him outside, and sure enough, as he rounded the building, he spotted him standing beneath the lights beside the ticket box. Crowley couldn’t help the smile that brightened his face. He was every bit as beautiful as he remembered. His white blonde curls formed a perfect cloud above his head, and he was wearing a similar suit to the one he had worn last night. Crowley had decided to dress up a bit, wanting to put his best foot forward so to speak. His leather jacket was new and well fitted over his red silk button up. Black jeans that was a bit too tight clung to his hips as he sauntered forward, and the snakeskin boots finished the look. He thought he looked rather dashing, if he did say so himself.

Aziraphale hadn’t noticed him approaching, his sharp blue eyes on a group of young people standing off to the side, laughing raucously and shoving each other about. He waited until he was within earshot to call out to him.

“Hey, Aziraphale!”

Those magnificent blue eyes turned to him and his whole face lit up, once again reminding him of an angel.

“Ah, hello Crowley. You’re just in time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Couldn’t find a place to park.”

“That’s quite alright,” he said as he held out his arm for him to take. “Shall we?”

Crowley flushed and took it. Well, this was new. He wasn’t used to going out with such a gentleman. He led him to the admittance booth where they purchased their tickets before heading inside. It was a relatively modern built hall, but Crowley still marveled at the high ceilings and grandness of the room as they moved to their seats.

“Have you been here before?” he asked Aziraphale.

“Not here, no. Though I have been to a great many spectacular performances in my time.”

Ah, that was right. Crowley kept forgetting that Aziraphale was likely incredibly old. He supposed it was possible for him to be newly made, but with how he dressed and behaved it was unlikely. Was it rude to ask a vampire how old they were?

They settled into their seats and Crowley was forced to let go of his arm. He decided it was for the best, he didn’t want to come off as clingy.

“So, my dear, how was your day?”

Crowley felt his face warm at the term _my dear._ “Oh, uh, it was good. I mean, it’s work, what can you do?”

“Where do you work?”

“At a consulting firm. Dreadfully boring and really not much to say about it. What about you, how was your day?”

Aziraphale raised a single eyebrow in amusement. “Well, considering I slept most of it, I would say it was alright.”

Oh, shit, he had forgotten again. He grimaced. “Crap, sorry about that. I keep forgetting.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s actually very refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t think being a vampire is my only character trait.”

Crowley grinned. “Oh, well, ok then. How was the rest of your night yesterday?”

He desperately wanted to ask if he had found someone else, and if he had kept his word and not taken them home. But really, he didn’t think he wanted the answer. It probably wasn’t healthy to be jealous this early into a relationship.

“It was nice. I went back to my shop and read for a while to pass the time, though honestly that’s what I do most nights.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “You have a shop?”

Aziraphale wiggled a bit in his seat. “Oh yes, I have a bookshop. I collect and restore antique literature.”

“Wow,” Crowley breathed. “That’s incredible. Have you had it long?”

Something that looked like anxiety crossed his face. “Yes, actually. My father was the one who opened and established it.”

Crowley blinked, trying to make sense of that. Perhaps it was bigoted of him, but he had rather forgotten that vampires had been human once, and so had had parents just like anyone else.

“Oh, wow, and I’m guessing that was a long time ago?”

Aziraphale nodded and glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, he opened in the year eighteen hundred.”

He quickly did the math in his head, working out that Aziraphale must be somewhere in the age of two hundred then. He was about to ask him more when the lights dimmed, and music began to swell on stage. Crowley looked away and tried to focus on the music, not on the beautiful immortal beside him. The show was good, a mix of classical pieces stitched together to form a smorgasbord of music. He noticed Aziraphale tapping his finger along to the beat several times, so he must be enjoying it as well.

It was about halfway through, as Crowley was adjusting himself in his seat, when his knee bumped into Aziraphale’s. He felt Aziraphale go still, and immediately the tension between them became palpable. He wondered if he should move, take his scrawny leg away from the plush one beside him. He noticed Aziraphale turning to look at him in the dark, and his gaze was like a physical sensation, running over him like water. He was about to pull away when Aziraphale’s hand moved from the armrest to his knee, giving him a gentle squeeze. Crowley sucked in a breath and finally turned to look at him. Even in the dark he could see the way his blue eyes were alight with something hungry and intense. The music was rising in a crescendo and he felt like he was moving towards something as well, though he couldn’t say what. And then just like that, the number ended and Aziraphale was removing his hand from his knee.

Crowley let out a long breath, his lungs pushing the air out in a huff. He would have been embarrassed if he weren’t positive that Aziraphale had been listening to the way his heart was hammering away inside him. By the time the show ended, Crowley wouldn’t have been able to tell you which pieces they had played or whether they were any good at all. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the ghost sensation of a hand gripping his knee making him a little weak.

Aziraphale led them out onto the pavement in front of the building. “Well, that was lovely, don’t you think?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It was great.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Um… the first one.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I liked that one as well. Chopin.”

They stood together beneath the streetlight for a long moment, just looking at each other. It was at times like these when Crowley wished he were more smooth and suave. Aziraphale was a distinguished person, and he was likely waiting to be impressed. But what could he offer him? He wasn’t particularly wealthy, and he wasn’t nearly as worldly as he would like to be. Aziraphale had probably been with a great number of men in his two hundred years, so how could he even compare? Aziraphale seemed to notice that he was having an internal dilemma, because he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“Right, well, I know we said we could go for a walk in the park, but if you have changed your mind it’s perfectly alright. I understand of course.”

Crowley blinked. “What?” Was he just trying to be nice and let him down gently?

Aziraphale gave him a reassuring smile, though there was something strained beneath it. “I understand if finding out my actual age has put you off. It’s to be expected. I’ve had a lovely time, truly, but I won’t hold you to something you’re uncomfortable with.”

Crowley shook his head, finally catching up to what he was saying. “What? No, I don’t care about that.”

This seemed to surprise Aziraphale. “You don’t? But my dear, I’m nearly two hundred years older than you.”

He snorted. “So? I’m thirty-five, I’m more that old enough to make my own decision. Besides, you _really_ don’t look it.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. “But still, there’s an age difference.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and if you were dating an eighteen-year-old it would be creepy. But guess what? It would also be creepy if _I_ were dating an eighteen-year-old, because their brains aren’t fully developed. I’m a fully consenting adult, and if you will have me, I would very much like to go on that walk with you.”

Slowly, a smile began to light up his face. In the glow of the streetlamp he could see the way his eyes twinkled. “You continue to surprise me, my dear.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing. Very little surprises me anymore.” He offered his arm once more. “Come, let us have our walk.”

On the way to the park they discussed the music show and what other sorts of music they enjoyed. It was no surprise to Crowley that Aziraphale listened primarily to classical and didn’t indulge in ‘bebop’. Crowley insisted that he would get Aziraphale to listen to Queen, even if the other scrunched up his nose at the idea. By the time they reached the park the discussion had moved on to film.

“Do you really not watch movies?”

“It’s not that I don’t watch them. I used to enjoy going to the cinema a great deal in the early days. But then sometime around the nineteen eighties, films began to change, and I wasn’t a fan.”

Crowley snorted. “What, you mean they actually got interesting?”

Aziraphale shot a glare at him. “No, I mean they stopped being about romance and the human existence and became about explosions and violence.”

“Ah-ha!” Crowley cried, pointing at him. “So you’re a movie snob, is that it?”

“You’ll find that I am a _snob_ about a great many thing,” he sniffed.

Crowley laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and looked away. “But really, I have enough violence in my life without watching it on the screen as well. I used to go to the cinema to escape, but then it all became more of the same.”

Crowley turned and saw the thoughtful, melancholic expression on his face. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“You know, there are actually a bunch of modern movies you might like that are about romance. Maybe we could watch a few together.”

There was silence for a moment as they continued along their path. Crowley waited with mounting anxiety for his answer. Finally, Aziraphale sighed.

“I think I would like that very much.”

Crowley relaxed and smiled. “Good, so would I.”

As they continued along the path through the park, Crowley noticed that there weren’t many other people around. It made sense, given the time of night. A small, primal part of him told him that he should be afraid of being in such a secluded place with a vampire. He could do anything to him if he wanted. But he shook that thought away. Aziraphale didn’t want to hurt him, so there was nothing to worry about.

“Are you hungry, my dear?”

He pulled himself out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were hungry. Have you eaten dinner? If not, we can stop at a late-night restaurant.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I ate when I got off work. Besides, I doubt you would want to sit in a restaurant where you can’t even eat.”

“I don’t mind it. You’re human, you still need to consume calories to stay in good health. Though I admit, I do miss eating.”

Crowley glanced at him. “Really? Did you enjoy it?”

Aziraphale chuckled and patted his plush stomach. “My dear, I’ve had this form since I was changed. Clearly I enjoyed eating.” His smile slid away, and he looked back to the path once more. “It’s one of the things I miss the most, actually. Sitting down for a meal and enjoying a home cooked roast, or a slice of cake from the bakery.”

“Can’t you still eat, even if it’s not for survival?”

Aziraphale laughed, but this time there was no humor in it. “Oh yes, I can still technically consume food. I can enjoy the way that it tastes like ash in my mouth and feels like cotton going down my throat. So no, there is no point.”

Crowley squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He had never particularly liked food. He ate it, of course, to survive. But he had never felt about it the way Aziraphale seemed to. It was just something he did so that he could keep going. He wished he could do something for him, to let him experience that once more.

Aziraphale patted his hand, his face clearing up. “It’s alright, not your fault.”

Crowley had so many questions, all that burned on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them back. He wanted to know what it was like to be a vampire. He wanted to know how Aziraphale had been turned and if it had been his choice. He wanted to _know_ Aziraphale. He was pulled from his thoughts when Aziraphale brought them to a halt. Crowley frowned and was about to ask him what the matter was, when he saw the two figures standing in the middle of the path a few meters in front of them.

They were dressed in long black trench coats over black studded boots. They both wore thick eyeliner and he could see silver necklaces around their necks, in the shape of what appeared to be a pentagram. There was a rustling sound and he turned to see another one stepping out of the trees behind them.

Aziraphale was very still beside him, his face an emotionless mask as he stared at the men. When he spoke, his voice was light yet stern.

“Excuse us gentlemen, would you mind moving off the path and letting us pass?”

All three of them chuckled, and the sound was sinister and not at all friendly. The taller of the two in front of them spoke.

“You’ve come on the wrong path tonight, it seems. See, this is our territory that you’ve tread on. I’m sure you’ve heard how us vampires deal with people who come onto our territory.”

Crowley’s heart lurched in his chest. These were other vampires? And from the looks of them, not the good sort like Aziraphale. Was that bigoted to think? No, he didn’t think so. Did Aziraphale know them? Was _that_ bigoted to think? Crowley’s eyes darted to each of them, making sure to keep track of the one behind them. Did vampires hurt their own kind? Aziraphale remained impassive, not giving him any indication of how he should act.

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t heard. Please, remind me what you do.”

The tall one leered. “We kill you. But not quickly. No, first we’ll drag you back to our lairs and chain you to the walls. Then, we’ll drain you slowly of every last drop of blood until you’re nothing but an empty shell.”

Crowley gripped Aziraphale tighter. Should they be running? He knew vampires were supernaturally quick, but perhaps Aziraphale could carry him? He certainly couldn’t take on three to one.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “We obviously don’t want that.”

The tall one took a step forward. “Now, since this is your first offence, we might let you off with a warning. Give us everything in your pockets, including that fancy watch there, and we’ll let you pass just this once.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “This pocket watch was my fathers. I’m really rather fond of it.”

Anger rippled across the others mans face. “Are you stupid? Is it really worth your life? We will kill you, human!”

Crowley frowned. Did these guys not know Aziraphale was a vampire as well? He thought they had ways of telling that sort of thing. Aziraphale pulled his arm out of Crowley’s and took a step forward. Crowley suddenly felt vulnerable at losing the solid weight of his presence.

The smallest of smiles pulled at Aziraphale’s lips, and Crowley saw his eyes take on a wicked glint.

“No, you will not kill me, _human._ ” His lips pulled up in snarl and for the first time Crowley saw the unnaturally long sharpness of his canines. In the blink of an eye he was standing before the man in front of them. Crowley watched with an open mouth as he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and lifted him into the air. The man let out a terrified shriek, his eyes practically bulging as he realized what Aziraphale was. The other two began to run, but Aziraphale lifted a hand.

“Stay.”

They froze where they were, eyes wide and their bodies shaking.

“You think you can come out here, pretending to be like my kind, hurting others, and get away with it?”

“P-please!” the man stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”

Aziraphale hummed. “No, you didn’t know. That’s the problem. From the moment you stepped in front of us I could _smell_ you. Your flesh and blood and hormones, all stinking up my air and so terribly human.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man repeated like a chant.

“I could kill you right now. I could rip out your throat and throw your body into the Thames, and nothing would happen to me. _Very_ lucky for you, I’m on a date and I don’t want to ruin it more than it already has been. So, go on, tell him thank you for saving your life.”

The mans terrified eyes lifted to Crowley. “Th-thank you.”

“Very good. Now, I could take your memories of this instance and send you on your way, but I’m not going to do that. Because if I did, what lesson would you have learned? Now, are you ever going to do this again?”

The man shook his head frantically. “No! No sir, I promise!”

“Good.” Aziraphale pulled his face close to his. “Because if I ever catch you pretending to be like us again, I _will_ kill you.”

He dropped him to the ground and the man went stumbling. They all took off, running as fast as their legs could take them down the path. Crowley realized he was still stared with his mouth hanging open, and promptly closed it. He watched as Aziraphale straightened out his jacket and then ran a hand through his curls. When he finally turned back towards him, it was very slowly. His eyes were filled with worry and caution.

“Crowley, are you alright?”

He swallowed and nodded. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. Do you understand why I had to?”

“Because… they were pretending to be like you?”

“Yes. And if humans pretend to be my kind while doing horrible things, it creates fear and mistrust for us. It feeds into their stereotypes and lets them believe we are the monsters they think we are. I could not let that go on.”

Crowley nodded slowly, still taking in the sight of Aziraphale in front of him. Up until that moment, he had only really seen the soft, beautiful side of Aziraphale. But now… that _strength_ he had. That speed. Aziraphale was dangerous. He should be afraid of him. He wasn’t.

Aziraphale was still staring at him, a small, sad frown pulling down his lips. “I can escort you home now, if you like. I understand if you want to go on your own without me, but it is still dangerous to walk these streets alone.”

Crowley shook his head. “Aziraphale, I’m still not afraid of you.”

Bewilderment crossed his face. “Why not? You just saw what I am and what I can do.”

“That’s true,” Crowley said as he began to walk towards him. “I saw you show mercy to people who vilify you and cause you harm. I saw you show restraint when you did not have to. I saw what you _could_ do, but didn’t.”

He stopped right in front of him. Aziraphale’s eyes were wide with wonder. Crowley brought his hand up and rested his fingers on his jaw.

“You could hurt me, but you won’t.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

He leaned forward slowly, giving him time to move away if he wished. Thankfully, he didn’t. Aziraphale closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. Crowley had always heard that vampires were hard like stone and cold to the touch. While Aziraphale was indeed cold, his lips were softer than any he had ever kissed before. He brought his own cold hand up and slid it into Crowley’s hair, pulling them closer. Crowley moaned as Aziraphale opened his mouth, his tongue sliding along his bottom lips and deepening the kiss. He tasted unlike anything he had every experienced before, like a strange mix of metal and apples. God, he wanted more. He moved his hands to his coat and gripped tightly, trying to pull their bodies flush together. Aziraphale finally broke the kiss with a small laugh.

“My dear, we’re still currently standing in the middle of a public park.”

Crowley grinned and stared into his eyes, now so much darker with lust and hunger. “Then take me home, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley will ALWAYS have a strength kink with me. I really hope you liked this and it lived up to the first chapter. I'm not yet sure how long this will be, but at least a few chapters more! I want to get more into Aziraphale's world and past and see how Crowley fits into that.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley stumbled backwards as they reached his building. He was too busy reaching for Aziraphale to properly pull out his keys, settling instead on being pinned to the wall. Aziraphale’s hands were strong and steady, holding him up and reaching to pull at his hair. Crowley moaned into the kiss he pressed to his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this turned on by someone else. He hadn’t even seen him naked and he was already straining in his trousers, his heart a wild gallop in his chest.

Aziraphale slid a leg in between his thighs and pressed up, finally giving him some of the pressure he needed. Crowley’s head fell back against the wall with a thump and he let out a moan. He didn’t care who heard him. He ground down against Aziraphale, letting him feel how hard he was for him. He was rewarded with a tongue sliding up his neck from collar bone to earlobe. Crowley’s body gave an involuntarily shiver at the sensation. Aziraphale began to press kisses to the skin along his neck. Crowley felt like he was on a tightrope of danger, tempting fate by laughing in its face. If Aziraphale wanted to sink his teeth into him right now, there was nothing he could do to stop him. If anything, that only excited him more. He began to fumble with his keys, but suddenly Aziraphale was stopping him.

Crowley frowned. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

Aziraphale should be panting right now. His face should be flushed and his skin dewy. Instead, he looked only mildly disheveled and flustered. Part of being a vampire, he supposed. Aziraphale smiled and shook his head.

“Nothing is wrong. I just… think we should slow down.”

Crowley swallowed and straightened up. Fuck. He was always doing this. He was always too eager, too enthusiastic, too fast. He pushed man after man away by being _too much._ He couldn’t let this be the same.

“I’m- I’m sorry Aziraphale. I never should have suggested coming back here. Can you forgive me?”

Aziraphale frowned and reached up to cup his cheek. “There is absolutely nothing to forgive. I wanted to come back here and ravage you just as much as you did. But… I want this to be more than just a pleasant evening and an enjoyable encounter. I like _you,_ and I want to take the time to get to know you better before taking the next step. Perhaps you’ll call me old fashioned, which I am, but I’ve never had anything like this before. I would like to do it right.”

Crowley blinked. Oh. He hadn’t expected that. He smiled shyly and leaned into the touch. “Ok. I would like that.”

Aziraphale’s face lit up. “Good. I was hoping you would.” He stroked his thumb along his jaw and leaned forward to kiss him much more gently this time. When he pulled back, he released him with a sigh. “In that case, I should go.”

“Are you sure? I was going to invite-“

“No!” Aziraphale said quickly, pressing his fingers to his lips more quickly than should have been possible.

Crowley stared with wide, startled eyes. Aziraphale took a deep breath and released his lips.

“My dear, I don’t want you to invite me in until you are positively certain. Your home is your sanctuary, and you should never invite a vampire in unless you know for sure you’ll want them to come freely.”

Crowley swallowed. “Do you not trust yourself?”

“It’s not that,” he assured. “But it’s a sacred sort of thing, an old magic with my kind that goes back to our creation. An invitation into a human’s home, well, it shouldn’t be given lightly. So promise me. Promise you’ll wait until you’re certain about me before you extend that invitation.”

Crowley blinked, taking in those words, and then nodded. “Ok. I promise, Angel.”

His cherubic face lit up at that, pearly, straight teeth gleaming in the low light of the nearby streetlamp. “Oh, good. Well then, I’ll be going.”

Crowley had to bite his tongue to stop himself from begging him to stay. From asking for way too much way too fast and sending him running for the hills. From saying that he was already sure. No, he could go slow. He could accept his affection in increments. He forced a smile and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll let you go. Will you text me?”

“Of course I will. Perhaps we can plan another date sometime this week?”

“Yeah!” he said with enthusiasm. “Perfect. Sounds great.”

Aziraphale brought Crowley’s hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, sending his heart bucking once again. Who even did that anymore?

“Goodnight, darling, and have a lovely day.”

He grinned dreamily. “You too, angel.”

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he turned away and began to make his way down the street. Crowley watched him, his hair seeming to glow even on the dark street. It took everything in him to turn back towards his door and go inside.

____

The next afternoon at work, he found himself grinning dopily at his computer screen, not really seeing what was there. His mind was much too full of thoughts of strong hands and wicked intellect and delicate, soft lips. He wasn’t even aware that he was staring into space until a hand was waved in front of his face. He blinked up at Anathema, who was standing beside him with a little, amused smiled.

“You alright there?”

“Of course I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past minute, and you’ve been ignoring me while staring at those spreadsheets like you want to marry them.”

He flushed and closed out the screen. “Uh, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Now, spill.”

He glanced back at her knowing smile and rolled his eyes. There wasn’t any point in trying to hide things from her.

“I… met someone.”

She dropped into the chair on the other side of his desk. “Oh yeah? Is this a new development?”

“I guess so. We went on out first real date last night.”

“And it went well?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it went really well.”

“Oh my god!” she cried, slamming her hand down on the desk. “Anthony Crowley, did you already sleep with him? I thought we had talked about this and you were going to try and slow down.”

“No! I didn’t sleep with him!” When she gave him a disbelieving look, he went on. “I was, well, I was _going_ to actually. We got all the way back to my place, but then he stopped. Said he wanted this to be more than a one-night thing, and so we should take it slow.”

Anathema dropped back in her chair. “Wow. That’s… wow. Good! He actually sounds like he has a good head on his shoulders and can keep you in check.”

“He does. He’s brilliant. He knows pretty much everything about literature and music and history. When he talks, he sounds just like an old-fashioned dandy. He’s fussy, and particular, and passionate, and just… he’s amazing.”

Anathema was smiling widely now. “And where did you meet this illustrious gentleman?”

“At Marvin’s.”

Her nose scrunched up. “That place is a shithole. Only sleaze balls go there. What was a guy like that doing there?”

He glared at her, avoiding the question. “Oi, I got to Marvin’s and I’m not a sleaze ball!”

“Yeah, but you go to those places looking for shitty men to take home with you, hoping you can turn them into prince charming. So, what was _he_ doing there?”

Crowley fidgeted and adjusted himself in his seat. He had wanted to tell Anathema about this, but now he was a little unsure. He didn’t want her to judge him. But he couldn’t keep it from her forever.

“Well, uh, he had actually just woken up and was looking for a bit of… company.”

She blinked. “Is he a prostitute?”

“What? No! He’s not a prostitute! He’s… well, he’s a vampire.”

Anathema’s eyes went wide, and she suddenly sat bolt upright. “What? Crowley, are you insane?”

He groaned and dropped his head back. “Don’t tell me you’re a bigot against them.”

“Of course I’m not!” she protested. “But, still, what would a vampire want with a human?”

Anger flashed through him. “Oh, it couldn’t possibly be that he’s interested in an actual relationship with me! I’m certainly not good enough for that!”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him.”

Now Crowley was really getting mad. “You don’t even know him!”

“Come on Crowley, most vampires are the same. In the end they only really want one thing, and they usually get it.”

Crowley stood and placed his hands on the desk, towering over her. “It sounds to me like you have some preestablished prejudice against them. Have you ever even met one?”

Anathema stood so that she was at equal standing with him. “I’ve read about them and studied them for years.”

He snorted without humor. “You talk about them like they’re animals and not people.”

She rolled her eyes. “They _were_ people. But depending on how old they are, they lose their humanity over time.”

“Oh yeah? And which old tome told you that, hmm? Because I’ve done a whole lot more than study Aziraphale in some stupid book that knows nothing about him, and I can tell you that he is far kinder and gentler than any breathing man I’ve ever met.”

He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and scooped up his briefcase.

“Crowley, where are you going?”

He sneered at her over his shoulder as he pulled the coat on. “I’m taking an early day. I don’t think I can stomach being in this office much more.”

Anathema looked distressed as she followed him to the door. “Crowley, you know I’m just trying to look out for you!”

He spun around, meeting her face to face. “I don’t need you to look out for me, I’m a fully grown man. And I’m not going to sit here and listen to you bad talk someone who I genuinely like and am going to see again.”

He stormed out of the office and then out of the building. How could Anathema generalize Aziraphale like that? Like he was nothing more that a monster who would inevitably kill him, just because of what he was. If Aziraphale wanted to hurt him, he had had every opportunity to do so. He could have let Crowley invite him up to his home and done whatever he wanted. But he liked Crowley, and he wanted something more with him.

By the time he had made it back to his flat he had calmed down somewhat. He was still annoyed, but his heart had slowed from its rapid pace. He made his way inside and flopped down on the sofa. He still just couldn’t believe Anathema. Out of everyone, he had thought she would be the most understanding. She had always immersed herself in the supernatural and the unknown. She came from a line of witches, for someone’s sake! And yet she had already judged Aziraphale as less than human. Well, he wasn’t going to be like her. He knew Aziraphale, and he liked him, and he was going to see him again. In fact…

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

_Hey Angel, I know you’re sleeping right now and won’t see this until nightfall, but I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed our date last night. I can’t remember that last time I had such a good time out. I was wondering if you would like to go out again tomorrow night. Perhaps we could go to the theater and see a show, or we could do something else if you know of anything. Just let me know!_

He dropped the phone onto the table and sighed. He wasn’t being too clingy, was he? Texting someone the day after a date wasn’t weird, right? Would Aziraphale even know if it was? Did he go on many dates with other men? The thought turned his stomach. Oh god, what if he was just one in a long line of men Aziraphale paraded through his life over the years, enjoying them while they were young and replacing them as soon as they got too old? He shook that thought from his head. He was being ridiculous. There was no need to jump to conclusions. No, he would wait and see where things went with Aziraphale before having such a serious discussion.

* * *

Aziraphale sat in his old armchair with his book in hand and glanced at the mobile phone for the fifth time that hour. He had awoken to such a sweet message from Crowley, and he found himself smiling again and again. Crowley was, well, Crowley was better than he had hoped. His worry that there would be only a physical attraction and nothing else had been put to ease rather quickly. Crowley was brave, and kind, and bold. He laughed so freely and wasn’t afraid to ask questions when he didn’t know something. He was everything Aziraphale had always dreamed of having but had been sure would not be possible.

When he had been a human it had been because of obvious reasons. The idea of prison and death had kept him from ever pursuing it. Once he had been turned, well, he had sampled. He had slept with men, both human and vampire alike, but he had never felt the desire to reach for more. Nobody had ever grabbed his attention and held it like Crowley did, and he was terribly eager to follow this trail wherever it went.

The bell over the shop jingled. Some nights, when he was in the mood, he opened the shop to the public. He never actually sold a book, but it could be nice to have people moving through the shelves and appreciating the books, just as they had done when his father had run the shop. But as soon as he got a whiff of who had come in, he knew it wasn’t a customer. He sat his book down and walked out of the back room.

“Hello Newt. I didn’t know you were coming by tonight.”

Newt was standing near the till, balancing a box and some papers in his arms. “Oh, uh, I wasn’t. But some mail came to my place, and for some reason it was addressed to you.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and seamlessly took the box and papers from him. Newt was surely the most hopeless vampire Aziraphale had ever known. If Aziraphale had thought that he stood out, it was nothing to poor Newt. It didn’t help that was rather new, having only been turned in 1998. He had been an aspiring computer technician, but those hopes had been dashed when he found himself in the clutches of Hastur, a rather nasty vampire with whom Aziraphale had had several unpleasant encounters. Aziraphale had found them, Hastur sucking the life out of Newt, and had stopped him from fully killing him. Newt had looked so young and pitiful, Aziraphale made the decision on the spot to turn him. He sometimes wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps it would have been kinder to let him go on, into whatever came after. But it did no good to dwell on the past. He had taken Newt in and cared for him like a son, teaching him the ropes and how to feed properly. Newt had not liked that. There had been times when Aziraphale had been sure Newt was going to let himself waste away rather than drink from a human.

And then, the invention of synthetic blood had come along and helped Newt out significantly. He now only needed to feed on human blood once per month. It was still a challenge, Aziraphale knew. Newt was unbearable awkward and had never figured out how to go up to a human and persuade them to let him bite them. Even now, when it was far easier, he couldn’t manage it. Newt was a good boy, but, well, Aziraphale had never had anything in common with him. He knew nothing about literature or music, instead trying to focus more on modern advancements.

“Well, thank you for bringing it to me. What’s in the box?”

“Oh, that’s the new computer I bought! I was thinking I could set it up here and work on it.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s wise, dear boy?”

Newt had destroyed every technical device he had ever owned. Aziraphale had never been able to figure out why, but it happened every time.

Newt looked down. “Look, I know I’ve messed up a lot. My landlord won’t let me set up anything more advanced than the television in my flat, for fear of a fire. That’s why I was hoping I could put it here.”

Aziraphale looked at him like he had gone mad. “And so you want to put it in my bookshop?”

“It won’t start a fire, I promise!”

Aziraphale sighed. He knew Newt could promise him no such thing. “I’ll think about it.”

He grinned. “Great, thanks!”

Newt followed him into the backroom as Aziraphale deposited the box on the floor. “So, anything new with you?”

Aziraphale paused as he made to sit. “Ah, well, actually yes.”

Newt looked at him in shock. He always asked that question, but he never got an answer besides ‘Oh no, just more of the same’.

“Really? What happened?”

“I went on a date.”

Newt stared at him. This clearly had not been what he had expected him to say. “A date? With who?”

Aziraphale sighed. He hated sharing too much about his personal life, but this was Newt. Who else was he going to tell?

“His name is Crowley. I met him at a pub a few nights ago, and we hit it off quite well.”

Newt sat down across from him. “Is he like us?”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and glanced down at his book. “No, actually. He’s human.”

Newts eyes went even wider. “Human? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he snapped.

He held up his hand in a placating manner. “It’s just, you’ve heard the stories. Of other vampires trying to have relationships with humans. It doesn’t typically end well.”

Aziraphale looked away, towards the window. Of course he knew the stories. There were several. Of the one vampire who had gotten fed up after one too many fights and killed his human girlfriend. Of the one that had been tempted by the blood and eventually got their partner hooked on the bite, until they were pimping them out to other vampires. Of the human who had discovered her vampire girlfriend was cheating, and had flung open the blackout blinds, causing burns all over her body. It was generally thought of that it was too messy to date a human. But he was different. Crowley was different.

“In case you forgot, I have been alive for quite a long time. I’m not going into this blind and I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you’re not!” Newt said quickly. “I didn’t mean that! Just… be careful. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

Aziraphale softened. “Of course I’ll be careful, dear boy. Have you ever known me to rush into anything?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly. This is no different. Crowley and I will take our time getting to know each other and make decisions accordingly.”

Newt still looked unsure, but he nodded. “Ok, I trust you.”

Everything _would_ be ok. He would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for smut blocking you! 😫 I swear, I never intend for these things to be slow burns, and yet it inevitably turns into one. Not that this will be too slow, I just need that sweet sweet character development. They need to YEARN.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Spooky Month! Have some more Vampire Aziraphale to celebrate!

Crowley felt like there was an energy buzzing inside him, just beneath his skin. He was meeting Aziraphale again tonight, and he felt incredibly lucky to be doing so. Aziraphale hadn’t told him what they were doing, only to meet him on the corner of Piccadilly and St. James Street at eight o’clock. He had left work early so that he could go home and get dressed up. He wanted to look nice for Aziraphale. He glanced at his watch at saw that it was two after eight. He bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around. Maybe he was just running late. He really hoped he wasn’t about to be stood up. But he didn’t have to worry long before he saw a halo of white blonde curls approaching through the throng of people. He waved his hand over his head.

“Angel, hey, over here!”

Aziraphale made his way up to him, a pleased smile on his face. “Good evening my dear. My, don’t you look wonderful.”

Crowley flushed at the compliment, sliding his hands into his pockets. He had dressed up tonight, at Aziraphale’s insistence. He wore well fitted black dress slacks with a silk burgundy button up, a form fitting black blazer pulling the whole look together. He ran a hand through his hair, which he had also combed back.

“Thanks Angel, you look great too.”

Aziraphale waved a hand. “I look how I always look.”

Crowley winked. “Exactly.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled. “Why, Crowley, I didn’t know you were such a flatterer.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Only for you.”

Aziraphale hummed happily and offered his arm. “Shall we, my dear?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Where are we going?”

Aziraphale led him around the corner and waved his arm at the building in front of them, making Crowley’s eyes go wide.

“The Ritz? Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” Aziraphale chuckled.

Crowley blinked stupidly at the building before looking back at Aziraphale with a frown. “But why? You can’t eat. If this is for me, we can really go someplace less fancy.”

“Crowley, I am unable to treat myself in this regard, so please allow me to treat you. I want to do this.”

“But I want you to enjoy yourself as well.”

A sharp smile pulled at Aziraphale’s mouth. “Oh, trust me my dear, I plan on enjoying myself very much.”

He swallowed, suddenly feeling ridiculously hot under the collar. He wasn’t entirely sure what Aziraphale meant by that, but he would certainly like to find out.

Aziraphale led them up to the front door and opened it for him. The inside was just as opulent and luxurious as the outside, and even though he was dressed for the occasion, he couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t belong here. He usually settled for a local pub or chip joint if he went out with friends, sometimes indulging in sushi or an Italian restaurant if he had a date, but he never came someplace this nice. Then again, Aziraphale seemed right at home here. He smiled genially at the hostess and told her the name for the reservation, his voice and posture commanding respect. They were led to their table near the back, beside a piano that tinkled away, creating a lovely ambiance. Aziraphale pulled his chair out for him and he flushed. There he went being a gentleman again. Aziraphale took his seat as the waiter laid down menus.

“Can I interest you gentlemen in one of our wines?”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Would you like wine, dear?”

“Um, sure. Red, preferably.”

“Of course, bring us a bottled of Chateau Ausone.”

“Right away, sir.”

Crowley watched the waiter walk away before glancing down at his menu. He was curious, so he searched for that particular bottle of wine, and when he found it his eyes nearly popped out of his head and he choked on his tongue.

“Everything alright dear?”

“Angel, that bottle you just ordered costs more than five thousand pounds.”

Aziraphale adjusted his napkin on his lap. “I am aware.”

Crowley couldn’t do anything more than stare dumbly. Aziraphale couldn’t even _drink_ the wine. He was spending all this money on him, and for what?

“Aziraphale, you really don’t have to do all this. I’m already impressed by you. I’m usually a cheap date.”

Oh, fuck. He cringed internally at how that sounded. He was making it seem like he was a cheap whore who gave it up for a couple of cigs and a ham sandwich. His mind scrambled around to fix what he had said but calmed when he felt the gentle press of a hand over his. He looked to Aziraphale and saw nothing but kindness and understanding in his eyes.

“Just because that’s how it normally is, doesn’t mean that’s how it has to be this time. It’s no trouble for me. In fact, I very much enjoy spending money on you and treating you well. I’ve been accumulating wealth for the past two hundred years with nothing besides books to spend it on. It feels wonderful to finally have someone who can enjoy it along with me. So please, stop stressing and relax my dear.”

The knot of tension in his chest slowly unwound at his words, his heart choosing instead to beat out a samba against his breastbone. Well, that was… nice. He wasn’t used to nice. He gave him a tentative smile and turned his hand over for him to hold more securely.

“Alright. I think I can do that.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Thank you.”

The waiter chose that moment to appear beside them with the wine. He began to pour it into two glasses, but Aziraphale stopped him.

“Oh, none for me thank you.”

The waiter looked mildly surprised, but hid it well, taking the second glass away from the table.

“Of course. Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

Crowley panicked slightly, looking down at his menu. He had never tried anything here before and had no idea what he should choose. He didn’t have to worry for long, however, because Aziraphale delicately took his menu and ordered for him.

“He’ll start with the Norfolk crab. For the main course he’ll have the cutlet and fillet of lamb with artichoke and olive.”

The waiter smiled and nodded. “Excellent choice. And for you?”

“Nothing for me, expect perhaps a bottle of your best B positive blood.”

It was nearly imperceivable, the way the waiter took this information. Crowley noticed just the slightest stiffening of shoulders, a small widening of the eyes, the barest of intakes. He didn’t blame him. They probably didn’t get many vampires in here. The waiter swallowed and nodded.

“Absolutely. Right away, sir.”

Crowley watched him dart away towards the kitchen with a small smile. Was it terrible that he liked the way people reacted to Aziraphale being a vampire?

“Are you hungry, angel?”

Aziraphale hummed, his own smile playing at his lips. “Not particularly, no. But I find I get better service when they know what I am.”

Crowley let out a genuine laugh at that. “You’re a bit of a bastard, you know that?”

He looked incredibly pleased. “I may have been told, once or twice. But I admit, I do enjoy hearing it again.”

Crowley shook his head fondly and lifted his wine glass to his lips, only for Aziraphale to reach out and stop him.

“Wait, go slowly.”

Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Slowly?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes intense. “I want to watch you enjoy it. To feel the way you savor it. I would like the same while you’re eating. If I can’t enjoy the food or wine, I will settle with enjoying you.”

Crowley knew his cheeks were likely a bright red, heat flushing him all the way through. Well, when Aziraphale put it like that… He lifted the glass to his nose and rolled the wine around, taking in the aroma. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the fruity aroma. When he opened his eyes once more Aziraphale was watching him, his whole body tilted slightly forward. Then Crowley brought the glass to his lips. He parted them slowly, holding eye contact with Aziraphale as he slid the rim of the glass into his mouth. It didn’t look like Aziraphale was breathing at all by this point, his focus so intense. Crowley tilted the glass up and allowed some of the wine to slid into his mouth. And oh, god, that was the best wine he had ever tasted. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips. Aziraphale’s eyes dilated and he looked practically ready to pounce from his chair. When he spoke, he sounded breathless.

“Is it good?”

“Oh, angel, it’s incredible. The best I’ve ever had. Better than sex, maybe.”

Something mischievous crossed his face. “Perhaps you’ve just never had sex with the right man.”

Crowley smirked. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Aziraphale continued to watch him as he drank, but Crowley found himself curious for more answers about him. But first, he needed to figure out what he was comfortable talking about.

“So, I would love to know more about you, but is there anything you would rather I not ask?”

Aziraphale tilted his head. “You mean about being a vampire?”

He shrugged. “Among other things.”

Blue eyes considered him for a long moment, before he shook his head. “You may ask whatever you like, my dear. I would like very much for you to know me.”

“Ok. When exactly were you born?”

“April twenty seventh, seventeen ninety-nine.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “So, that would make you two hundred and twenty-one years old.”

“Indeed, if you count my years as a human.”

Crowley frowned. “Shouldn’t you count those years?”

“Oh, I do. But there are some vampires who prefer to pretend that they popped into creation on the day of their turning. It helps them to believe they are actually far superior to all those who are still human. Ridiculous, if you ask me.”

Crowley chuckled. “So you don’t think you’re better than me?”

“Only slightly, dear,” he said with a teasing smirk.

“Continuing off that question then, when were you turned?”

Something dark settled over Aziraphale’s face, erasing the smile. “March of eighteen thirty-nine. A few weeks before my fortieth birthday.”

Now, Crowley didn’t want to pry, but Aziraphale had said he could ask him anything. “Did you want to be turned? Was it something you sought out?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were distant, focusing on something Crowley could not see. “No. I had no idea the supernatural even existed before it happened.”

“And… what exactly did happen?”

He blinked and seemed to come back to the present, a tight smile pulling over his face. “That is a story for another time. I will tell you, but I would rather not get into that while trying to enjoy a lovely date.”

Crowley flushed and looked down, feeling ashamed for taking it too far. “Sorry.”

A firm hand on his knee made him look up. “Don’t ever feel sorry or afraid to ask me questions. Open communication is key for this to work, ok?”

He smiled. “Ok, angel.”

Aziraphale tilted his head. “Why do you call me that?”

“What?”

“Angel. You called me it for the first time after the incident in the park and have been using it ever since. I don’t mind, but I’m certainly no angel.”

Crowley suddenly became terribly interested in the contents of his wine glass. “Oh, um, well it’s just that the first time I saw you, I thought you looked like an angel. So, it stuck.”

The hand on his knee squeezed slightly. “An angel, hmm? You know, biblically angels were often quite terrifying.”

Crowley snorted. “Yeah, but I was thinking more like those adorable little cherubs you see painted on ceilings. You know, with fluffy hair and soft bodies.”

Aziraphale’s hand pulled back slightly, a crease forming between his brows. “And… do you like that? That I’m soft?”

Did Aziraphale serious not know? How was that even possible? Couldn’t he hear the way his heartbeat took off when he looked at him, or feel the heat that radiated like a second skin whenever they touched? Surely, he hadn’t been at all subtle.

“Are you kidding angel? I think you’re fucking gorgeous. The moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew I had never seen a more beautiful person.”

Blue eyes flashed down, and then back up. “I thought the same of you. I thought about what it would have done to me if I had seen you back in the day, while I was still human. I fantasized about spotting you across the room at a party, watching you laugh and charm the host. I imagined catching your eye from across the floor, and that you would be brave enough to wink at me. I wasn’t brave at all back then. I would have blushed and looked away, terrified of being caught out. But not you. You would have approached once we were in the hall, all alone. I pictured the way you might touch my hand, so gently and yet so insistent, making sure to get your message across. And I imagined that for once I would be brave as well. That your beauty and courage would be enough for me to pull you into an empty room and finally taste what I had been missing for so many years, to slide my tongue across your lips and know that it was the only piece of heaven I would ever be allowed to sample. And it would be worth it. I would have given up my eternal soul for a single night with someone like you. We would risk everything, because we knew that for sinners like us, paradise came in a different form.”

Crowley knew his mouth was hanging open, and yet could do nothing but stare. He could see it in his mind, what Aziraphale was describing, and it tore open an ache in his chest that seemed as though it had always been there. Like a memory shrouded in mist, hidden from him until this moment, and he had finally been cracked open. When he found his voice, it sounded small to his own ears.

“I don’t think it’s a sin.”

Mirth and understanding danced in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Nor do I, my darling. But times were different then. My life as a human was… constricting. I never married, for obvious reasons, but I yearned for someone to love me and to give love in return. But that was not something I could have. It would have meant death or imprisonment. So I hid myself away. I hid in between the leather covers of my books and in tiny back rooms that smelled of tea. I thought I could be happy to live that way, through the eyes of others. It wasn’t until I was turned that I realized my eyes were worth being seen through. Even though my heart stopped beating that day, it felt like the for the first time I was alive. I lost… a lot. But I gained so much as well.”

Crowley rested his hand over Aziraphale’s. “Do you regret being turned?”

Aziraphale considered the question, taking a moment to give his answer. “I used to, in the beginning. I didn’t understand much of anything, and I was terrified of what my father would think. I grew up religious, you see, so coming to terms with what I had become was difficult. It took time. But I don’t anymore. I think perhaps it was meant to happen.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because now I have met you. I never would have if I had died all those years ago.”

Crowley smiled, his heart lifting considerably. “That’s a nice way to look at it. I’m sorry you had to go through so much to get here.”

“Don’t be. It was worth it.”

Crowley wanted to kiss him then and there. To pull him across the table and chase his mouth with his own. To hear that needy moan that twisted up his insides. He _wanted_ him like he had never wanted anyone before. But he restrained himself, because they were in a classy place, and dammit he could be classy if he wanted to. Instead, he reached his leg out and slowly ran it up Aziraphale’s, earning him a hitched breath.

“Oh, I’ll make sure it was angel.”

That hungry look was back, and Crowley wasn’t convinced that it wouldn’t be Aziraphale climbing across the table for him. But then the waiter appeared with the meal, and the moment broke. Crowley stared down at his food, far too much for him to eat, and then over at the single glass of red liquid in front of Aziraphale.

“Will that be enough for you?”

Aziraphale lifted the glass. “I already told you, I’m indulging on something else tonight. Go ahead and try the crab, tell me how it is.”

And so Crowley did. He broke open the hard outer shell and sucked the meat into his mouth, trying to not be overly loud, but just enough for Aziraphale to enjoy. He hummed with pleasure as he chewed.

“What does it taste of?” Aziraphale asked quietly.

“Mmm, it’s a little bit sweet, but also definitely of the sea.”

“Dip it in the butter,” he instructed.

Crowley did, and oh that was even better. “Oh, there’s garlic in there. It really brings out the meatier taste of it.”

Aziraphale hummed and sipped his synthetic blood, his eyes never leaving Crowley. Once he finished with the crab he moved on to the lamb, which was somehow even better. He wasn’t sure if he was actually enjoying it for the taste, or for the way Aziraphale seemed to derive pure pleasure from watching him, but he either way this was the best meal of his life. By the time he finished and sat back, he felt stuffed.

“Are you sure you aren’t just trying to fatten me up so that I eventually taste better?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “If that was my goal, I wouldn’t have chosen such a distant target my dear.”

The waiter came with the bill and Aziraphale wouldn’t let Crowley see it, just slid a card in and handed it back. Crowley supposed he didn’t actually want to see it. When that was settled Aziraphale led him back outside, taking his hand as they began to stroll down the street to where Crowley had parked his car. He didn’t want the night to end but wasn’t sure what more they could do if each other’s homes were off limits. They stopped beside the Bentley and he sighed.

“So, I guess this is goodnight?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I think that’s for the best, my dear.”

“Alright. Maybe, sometime soon, I can come over and see your shop?”

He smiled wider. “I would like that. I open it to the public some nights, so you could just stop by. Perhaps tomorrow night?”

His heart leapt. He wanted to see him again so soon? “Yeah, tomorrow works for me. I could come by around eight, see what the fuss is all about.”

An adorable pout pulled his lips out. “I do not make a fuss.”

“Of course you don’t, angel.”

He leaned in then and kissed him. Aziraphale responded immediately, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. Crowley backed him up against the Bentley, bracketing his body with his arms. Aziraphale’s body was soft, with enough give for Crowley to press his own lanky form into the shape of him. He opened his mouth and allowed Aziraphale to lick into him, chasing some unknown taste, and welcomed it wholly. His own tongue carefully explored the sharp edge of Aziraphale teeth, slipping along the elongated canines. He was incredibly careful to not press too hard, for fear of cutting himself. He slid a hand into Aziraphale’s curls and marveled at their softness. Was that a vampire trait, or was that just Aziraphale? It didn’t matter. He was achingly hard, and he pressed the proof of his want against Aziraphale’s thigh. This earned him a loan moan. Aziraphale’s hand began to move down the length of his chest, creeping towards his aching cock.

“Gross, get a room faggots.”

Crowley tensed at the words, pulling back and about to shout an angry retort at the hateful passerby, but Aziraphale beat him to it. His lip curled back, revealing his fangs, and he let out a terrifying snarl.

“Shit!” the man cried, stumbling back and making a run for it down the street.

Crowley watched with satisfaction before turning back to Aziraphale. He was still glaring after the man, as though considering hunting after him. Crowley reached up and smoothed his thumb across his cheek.

“Hey, angel, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he snapped. “It’s twenty twenty, people shouldn’t still think that way.”

“There will always be hateful people in the world. But we don’t have to let them affect us. It’s their problem, not ours.”

He sighed. “Yes, but it rather becomes my problem when they use it to hurt us.”

Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “Are you kidding angel? You scared the shit out of him. I doubt there is anything he could have done to actually hurt us. Maybe he’ll think twice about spewing his words onto strangers next time.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I certainly hope so.” He sighed and stepped away from the car. “Well, I should be going now.”

“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

They leaned together for one more kiss, savoring it. When Aziraphale finally stepped away, Crowley wanted to chase after him. But no. He was trying to _not_ seem desperate.

“Bye, angel.”

“Goodbye, my dear.”

Crowley watched him make his way down the street before he climbed into the Bentley. Every moment he spent with Aziraphale made him feel like he had been waiting his whole life for him. Like every shitty ex and soul crushing one-night stand had been preparing him for Aziraphale. He finally felt happy, and nothing had ever terrified him more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now I really want to write a historical fic with these two. But no, I mustn't. I must finish fics before starting new ones! I really like Aziraphale scaring people. It's cathartic. Also, role reversal? With the enjoying food bit, since Aziraphale can't actually eat food and our angel needs to be able to enjoy it in some form.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are to me what blood is to Aziraphale. Our life source. Thanks for reading! 😄


End file.
